


Binky

by ThirteenSocks



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: But sexual, Daddy Kink, If that confuses you, Kink Exploration, M/M, Non-Sexual Age Play, it is just separate from the age play, that’s the whole premise of the fic, there is sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-07
Updated: 2018-09-09
Packaged: 2019-06-23 12:35:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,566
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15606417
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ThirteenSocks/pseuds/ThirteenSocks
Summary: Shiro has a daddy kink.He wants Keith to call him Daddy, to spoil him, maybe even get him to whine. He speaks with Keith about wanting to try it out, only doesn’t specify that. But, when Keith shows up with a pacifier in his mouth, and hair tied up on his head, he realizes he needed to.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Don’t look me in the eyes. I know what I have done.

It’s a joke, Shiro’s telling himself. They were discussing daddy kinks, had agreed to try it, but it never occured to Shiro that he’d need to specify things. It’s not... bad. Perhaps just, surprising.

 

Shiro pats the bed next to him. ”Keith?”

 

He’s looking at Shiro with wide eyes, they’ve always been naturally doe-like, dare he say, child-like, right now. He’s open. Vulnerable. Shiro’s eyes trace down to his mouth, blue pacifier being pushed gently in and out of it. The pace is speeding up, Shiro thinks it’s nerves. Looking up, Keith’s bangs are swept away from his face, pulled into a scrunchy high atop his head. It’s ridiculous. It’s endearing. He makes eye-contact again, the longer he’s waiting for a response, the more terrified he looks.

 

”Baby,” he whinces, it’s a typical nickname for Keith, so the context doesn’t hit him until it’s out of his mouth, ”Sit down. It’s ok.”

 

Keith hesitates. His eyes stray towards the side, where the door is in his peripheral vision. Locating the physical exit seems to calm him some, because he shuffles over to the bed and sits down. With a trembling hand, he plucks the pacifier out from his lips.

 

”Keith-”

 

”It’s ok. I-.. The way you looked just now. I.. I feel stupid. This is stupid. I’m sorry.” He yanks the scrunchie from his hair, his bangs fall over his eyes, his head bent forward.

 

”No, look, I. Keith, I just wasn’t expecting this. When I said daddy kink, I meant...,” he pauses, ”Well. That’s fair. I’m not actually sure what I meant. So, how were you supposed to know?”

 

Navigating kinks is proving harder than Shiro took it to be.

 

Keith though, blessedly, is patient. His body language still communicates that he wants to run, but he’s giving Shiro the space to think, to talk, before he dashes. A trust Keith doesn’t afford many.

 

”I sort of envisioned like. A.. cutesy, spoiled brat?” He blushes, it feels silly to voice, ”Like a daddy’s girl but a boy. I thought you’d whine and let me spoil you.”

 

”I’m sorry, I feel so stupid.”

 

”Keith, look at me, please. It’s ok. I.. I’m having... feelings about this. Just not, uh, not the type I associate with what I expected to happen.” He’s tripping over words, the only sign given that he’s also nervous. ”I.. Keith. I like it. It makes me want to take care of you; Get you a warm glass of milk, tuck you into bed, color with you.” He takes a shakey breath. ”But what scares me is, I still want all the other things. Not necessarily when you’re like... that, but. I still want sex.”

 

Keith seems to take it in. He’s fidgeting with the pacifier in his lap. ”How about both?”

 

Shiro moves in closer to Keith. He cups a palm around his cheek. ”Baby,” he breathes, this time meaning it, ”Do you like this? Do you want me to be your daddy? Care for you? My little boy.” The last part is a risk, but he knows Keith, and he’s confident he’s reading it right. As the words process, Shiro sees him jump.

 

”Yes, daddy. But.. uhm, I also want... to be your baby.” Those large eyes are burning, pupils contracting.

 

”How about this,” he gently pries the pacifier from Keith’s hands, ”This,” he raises it, ”is for my little boy. And this,” he sets it on the nightstand, then lays his palm around Keith’s upper thigh, ”is for my good boy. My baby.”

 

Keith’s breath skips and shudders on its way out. A high-pitced whine sounds from his throat. ”Yes, daddy.” He breathes before crushing their lips together.


	2. Chapter 2

It’s searing hot, a mix of tongues and clanking of teeth, and breath too heavy to breathe through just their noses. Shiro’s happy to find them both be so turned on about it. The words ring in his ears, ’yes, daddy’. Keith’s voice, with its honeyed-rasp, calling him daddy, is enough to want to get in Keith not a second later. But, as they kiss wet, he wants to deliver on his part. He wants Keith to be played with, to feel so good he aches, to beg for the chance to cum, because Shiro’s worked him up so hot and heavy. 

When they part, a single strand of spit follows. It makes Keith chuckle, the type that’s breathy, almost buried deep within a haze of lust. 

Shiro moves, placing kisses along Keith’s neck. At first, brushing just barely against the skin, teasing. Then making actual presses, the wet inside of his lips making contact. He kisses the entire expanse, all the while getting Keith to turn to face him. He sucks hard, involving teeth so there will be bruising, marks for Keith to admire, to hide in pleasured shame, shyness, come morning. 

Keith’s adam’s apple bobs with a hard swallow, and Shiro nips at it. It earns him a sharp gasp. 

Keith is always quiet, so Shiro’s learned to listen and interpret. That gasp is as good as a lewd moan. 

”C’mon, baby,” he breaks away, admiring the work on Keith’s pale neck, ”Let’s lay you down.” 

It’s a bit graceless. Shiro can’t really get his eyes to focus on anything but Keith. Who snorts as he falls sideways. Shiro makes a quip about it, but sees the mischief gleam in the man’s eyes. He raises an eyebrow. Shiro’s throat dries up and he nods. 

With a loud squeal of laughter, Keith rolls away from Shiro. ”Catch me if you can.” He pushes off the bed just as Shiro lunges to grab him. ”Gotta be faster than that!” 

”Baby!” It’s a chase around the room. Keith is quick and nimble, working his way out of Shiro’s grasp twice. Before, finally, Shiro lifts him up and gently tosses him back onto the mattress. He crawls up Keith’s body, pining him knees on either side, and thin, small wrists held above his head with a single hand. ”You’re being naughty. Maybe daddy shouldn’t give you your treat.” 

Keith gasps, Shiro groans. It’s almost too much, saying those words. Even more so seeing them overwhelm Keith. 

”Daddy,” his voice is scratchy from all the panting earlier, scratchy and desperate, ”No, daddy. Please. I’ll be good.” 

Shiro wants to bust his nut right there. 

”Ok, if you’ll be good for daddy, baby, I’ll let your hands go and take your clothes off. Make my baby feel real good. Can you do that for me?” 

Keith nods. 

Shiro pulls off the clothing with all the delicacy of unwrapping a fragile present. It adds to the fire blazing in his gut, watching the slow reveal of soft, naked skin. He allows the hem of the shirt to catch against the dark, hardened nipples. It gains him a moan. The pants go faster, as much as Shiro wants Keith to be totally fucked up, in tears, his own length is screaming at him to bury inside Keith. Keith’s underwear is a pair of tight briefs with dinosaurs on them. ”You’re so cute, baby.” He kisses the wet spot where they’re tenting. They come off with the same agonizing brush against sensitive skin. 

”Keith, baby.” He steps back and whispers. 

Keith is gorgeous like this. 

On his back, hair splayed around him, messy from the fervor of their play. Full body blushing, especially his cock, which stands as hard as Shiro has ever seen it, head an angry pink, beautiful, enticing. Begging, as droplets of pre bead up and spill from the slit. 

”Be a good boy and don’t cum yet, ok?” Shiro gets down to his knees on the floor, waving for Keith to scoot forward. ”Daddy wants to fill up your pretty hole, but if you cum now you’ll be too sensitive.” 

”Yes, daddy.” 

Another day, he’ll take his time, worship Keith’s cock. He’ll let his lips drag along the underside of the head, then tongue along where his lips ghosted. He’ll mouth it gently, teasingly, breath hot and spilling around it. He’ll work up from barely-there sucks, to bobbing, to trying to relax his throat. Today he just sucks enough to get Keith riled up, for fingers to tug in his hair. It’s loud and messy, Shiro letting the drool and precum gather and drip from his mouth and the cock. 

”Shir- Daddy, s-stop. I’m...” 

He lets go with a satisfying pop. 

Keith thrusts the air a few times, the bedding balled tightly between his fists. He whimpers. 

When Shiro makes to take his clothes off, Keith begs for him to keep them on. ”I.. I like.. it- it feels..” 

Shiro reads it from his face. ’It’s a bit humiliating, being the only one naked.’ It doesn’t take any more convincing. He pops his button and takes off only what he needs to be free. 

Grabbing the lube from the sidetable, he coats himself with a generous amount. 

”I’m prepared.” Keith rasps. 

Shiro only wets the entrance. 

 

Keith is velvet around him. Soft, warm, tight velvet. Shiro chokes on his breath, feeling the walls around him stretching as he enters. It’s heaven. Fully-sheathed, he collapses over Keith, barely able to stablize his weight with his arms. Keith’s adjusting. Tightening and releasing, tightening and releasing. Shiro cries out. 

He let’s their foreheads come together. However much he’d been able to sustain their roleplay before, he’s buried inside Keith, and has no focus for anything but their connected bodies, and the love that’s exploding in his chest. ”I love you, Keith.” He says as much. 

Shiro always turns sentimental at this point. No matter how much he wishes or talks game about destroying his hole, making it rough, emotions burst as he links their bodies. 

Taking Keith’s hands in his, lacing their fingers, he begins a steady pace. 

They’ve worked themselves to brink of orgasm many times already, so it’s only a few thrusts and Keith relaxed around him. 

They kiss, slow and sloppy. 

His orgasm builds up as Keith starts to tighten around him in pulses. He groans, feeling the weight of his balls and the pressure building in them. Timing isn’t always perfect, but the twitching around him tells him whoever cums first, the other won’t be far off. 

Shiro goes first. There’s energy to call out to Keith, to warn him. He busts inside, a few ropes at first, and then pooling. 

Keith cries out, one of his favorite things being when he can feel Shiro pump him with cum. 

Shiro grits his teeth and shuts his eyes, Keith constricting around him, milking him dry, while he paints Shiro’s chest with his load. 

”Fuck.” Keith breathes. 

Shiro collapses on top of Keith. ”Fuck.” He agrees. 

 

”You gonna make good on the taking care of me?” He says it with a lazy smirk. 

”Pillow princess.” Shiro flicks Keith’s forward. ”Yeah, yeah. I’ll get the washcloths.” 

”Thanks, daddy.” 

Shiro shakes his head and gets up to go to their bathroom. He pauses in the doorway, holding the doorframe and turning back to Keith. ”Love you, baby.” He’s not sure which type he’s meaning. Maybe all of them. 

”Love you, too, Shiro.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for your support!
> 
> Socks


	3. Chapter 3

”Hit me.”

 

Shiro looks up from the papers he’s grading. Keith’s standing in the doorway, hair dripping from the shower he just took. His face is pale, lips blue, limbs trembling slightly. Normally, Keith wears the bathrobe Shiro bought him since the wear turned cold, but he’s standing, naked.

 

”Uh, Keith?”

 

Keith approaches slowly, arms extended in front, and comes down to kneel before him, hands on Shiro’s knees. ”Slap me.” He tilts his chin upwards, eyes closing.

 

He knew something was bothering Keith, could tell it the minute Keith walked in. Normally he was loud, sighing the day away, keys jingling loudly as they drop on the counter. His bookbag would thunk heavy on their kitchen table and the chair would screech as he plopped down on it. But today?

 

The door opened slowly, and, once on the other side, Keith took the handle and kept it from closing automatically, as he usually did.

 

Shiro watched him take off his shoes, fingers missing the laces several times, and then tuck them neatly into their shoe bin. The keys went carefully on their hook. The bag was lowered gently to the table. He went to shower before Shiro could even react and welcome him home. It was a long shower. Keith’s from the desert; he doesn’t take long showers.

 

”..Daddy, please?”

 

”Keith, I can’t. This- this isn’t-”

 

”Shiro, please. I need it. I need to be hit- just- pretend I’m someone we fought. Something.” A sob visibly rips from him, his head falling between Shiro’s open legs. ”Please.” He chokes.

 

Shiro looks down at Keith. He can’t see Keith’s face, it being bowed down, long hair closing around like a veil. Keith’s shoulders are tense and shaking. Keith doesn’t have qualms about crying, he’s far too emotionally open for that. But this? This is a gut-wrenching sob, and perhaps the one way that Keith does hide from Shiro.

 

The idea comes soft as a whisper, as soft as the hair he’s running his fingers through.

 

”Do you need your daddy, baby?” There’s no sexual charge to the word.

 

Keith stills. No doubt the change in direction something he needs to consider. It was really a guess on Shiro’s part, though, as Keith slowly peeks up at him, it’s an educated one. Keith’s eyebrows push together he skin between them, and he nods.

 

Little Keith doesn’t use words.

 

Shiro’s fine to use other means to understand him.

 

He bends slightly, hands scooping Keith up from beneath his armpits, and rests the man sideways on his lap. He’s strong enough for it to be a smooth movement.

 

Keith settles into the hold, his fist, curled, comes to rest against Shiro’s chest. He cheek smooshes against breast. His weight settles quickly to Shiro’s lap.

 

They spend a moment like that.

 

Shiro rubs Keith’s back with a firm palm, eyes slipping shut to address his senses, and what Keith is adding to them. The cologne Keith wears is one Shiro picked up on their anniversary in France. It’s sweet and light, like a field of wildflowers that grows worryless under the summer sun, but spicey, like cozy holidays and hot coffee. The scar across Shiro’s nose is the reason he can’t pick up individual notes, his smell having been reduced by exponents, but he knows it’s Keith, without knowing what makes it so. He taps into his breath. The inhales don’t lift his chest as much, not with Keith relaxed against it, but it calms down his heartrate. Keith’s warmth is a glow to Shiro’s closed eyes. The sound of Keith’s breathing is slowing.

 

”Would you like a bottle of milk? I can put on some cartoons, and baby can cuddle with daddy on the couch.”

 

* * *

 

The light of the tv plays across Keith’s face. The man had fallen asleep, teat of the bottle in mouth, curled in front of Shiro. Shiro’s head and upperbody are propped up on the arm of the couch. He’s watching in silence, subtitles on, so Keith can sleep peaceful.

 

Matt had texted him, telling him that Keith had run into his abuser earlier.

 

Keith sighs soft, babbling something in his sleep.

 

Shiro falls asleep, knowing in the morning there’s a conversation to be had.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this is so short, I’ve been having a real rough go at it lately. S7 really, really crushed me. I’m still trying to recover. This wasn’t going to be so angsty actually, but I’m just trying to cope.
> 
> I’m going to write more, but my brain is slow and thinking feels sticky.

**Author's Note:**

> I’ll write the sex if people really want it. But I’m nervous at the backlash already.
> 
> Socks


End file.
